Walls and Scales
by Fromageinterrupted
Summary: It was a one-sided love affair, if Riza Hawkeye had anything to do about it. Post manga/brotherhood. Royai. T to be safe.
1. They were in control

This happens after the end of the manga/brotherhood. I don't have any one particular head cannon, so my stories won't necessarily line up with each other.

...

It was a one-sided love affair, if she had anything to do about it.

Riza Hawkeye knew she was precariously close to making it a mutual relationship at any moment, but, just as she was constantly on guard in her physical world, so she was in her emotional world as well.

In her physical world, there were many dangers. Many places to watch, many voices to listen to.

In her emotional world, there was but one threat: General Roy Mustang.

The man she has known, followed, respected, admired, pushed, guarded, shared her deepest secrets with, these past twenty some years.

He had obviously fallen for her years ago, though this belief did not arise from any particular conceit on her part. Merely, she knew him, and knew that he loved her.

He was to be the next person in charge of their country, be it fuerher, president or prime minister, as soon as her grandfather retired from the position. There was no fraternization among the military, and she would do nothing to jeopardize his future.

Therefore, she would keep their love affair one-sided, and always protect herself from falling in love with him. Even though, in every other aspect, she loved him above all.

...

It was a one-sided love affair, at least if he had anything to do about it.

He would not fall in love with Riza Hawkeye. She, being his adjutant, guide, conscience, commander of his soul, would not allow him the luxury of falling for her.

He wanted her, that much rang true. Every day. When she picked him up in the morning with drowsiness still clinging to her eyes and the sun glinting off her hair. When she brought coffee to him with her particular way of cupping her hands around the mug and inhaling right before giving it to him. Her empty threats to get his paperwork done (they both knew he had spent a lifetime of bluffing) inciting a fire in her amber eyes that made him acquiesce, just to make her turn her temptation elsewhere.

He wanted her differently when they were younger. She was a wisp when he first saw her and he gave her little mind. As she grew, so did their friendship and his affections.

Then, somewhere along the way, be it in front of her father's grave, or behind a sniper rifle pointed at his head, she fell in love with him.

Roy could admit, easily, that nearly any woman he met would fall for him. He was dashing, mannered, rakish, and good looking. He used it to his advantage, whether as a distraction, or for information, or even vain attempts at something resembling a relationship.

But, when Hawkeye fell for him, he didn't know what to do with himself. All attempts at other relationships ended for him. With the force of all the time they had been together behind him, he had been ready to collapse into her for eternity, read to accept her love.

She stopped him with just one look. One flash of those eyes and he knew, "No sir, I will never forgive us if this ruined it all."

Every day he was close to tipping. Tipping toward her, but never away.

They touched even less than before, ever since she had almost died.

When his sight returned, he feasted upon her visage, teetering toward her, just a little more.

But, he couldn't touch her. It would be the end of his resolve, and he had silently promised her he wouldn't fall in love with her.


	2. The Car Ride

Lieutenant Colonel Hawkeye strode purposefully down the hall, another pile of important document in her hands, these as treasured as gold, for they gave Ishval back to their people and atoned in part for the devastation she and the others had executed upon the people and the land.

She reached the large, double doors the same time as General Mustang. He had hurried as well.

Behind the doors lay dignitaries, officers, the fuerher, Ishvalans, all ready to sign the documents and lift a small part of the burden from Hawkeye and Mustang.

He grinned at her, huge, cocky as usual, his eyes disappearing into slits.

She grinned back, absolutely joyful in the promise of this day.

"General"

"Lieutenant...Colonel."

There was a lightness in their voices, even in their simple greeting.

Mustang reached down to open the doors, and, for a brief moment, her hand came to rest on his. His eyes shot up to hers, but the doors swung open and all conversation, silent as it was, ceased.

...

There were photographs, interviews, handshakes and back patting at the signing of the treaties and decrees. Ishbal was its own again!

The giddy atmosphere was to continue into the night, with dinner and a ball at the Armstrong Mansion. It was fitting, General Armstrong's own adjutant having been an integral part of the reinstatement of Ishval.

It was a pleasure to celebrate after the years of pain followed by toil.

Roy Mustang took care to groom himself impeccably, though his stubborn hair continued to fall into his face.

Being a celebration of freedom from military rule, there would be no dress blues tonight.

It was formal, and Roy like to wear a tux. Placing his silk scarf around his neck, he headed out to wait for his limo to pick him up.

It would be a night of grand gestures, and he and his men would arrive in style.

The limo pulled up as he reached the bottom step, the driver jumping out to open the door for him. In the dimly it interior, he could see Breda, Fuery, and Havoc reclining on one seat. The other held a lone occupant, his lieutenant colonel, Riza Hawkeye.

He flexed his hand, still feeling the heat of her hand from earlier. How would he keep this at bay? He wondered.

There was only the seat next to Hawkeye available to him, if only she was as equally available. He looked at this men squished uncomfortably in the seat and believed they purposefully left Hawkeye's seat open, whether from respect or ulterior motives, he knew not.

Upon sitting, he could feel the heat of her. Her legs were stockinged, her full skirt ending right below her knee, Her dress was black (had he ever seen her wear anything else besides black or blue?). It suited her. Her bodice was demure, long sleeved and boat necked. Her short hair bared her neck, scar and all. The ferocity in leaving just that skin exposed tipped him more her way.

He greeted his men and greeted Hawkeye with a choked "you look...nice."

What could he say? There was too much flowing under his skin, between them, through her eyes, for him to say what he really thought.

His senses were acutely aware of her. He heard every rustle of her skirt, the soft brush of her stockings when she switched the direction her legs were crossed. He had always been a leg man, and her calves and the black heels she wore tonight helped solidify his penchant.

It was too much. He had remained in the balance all these years. Hawkeye on one side, first her father, then the war, his ambition, her steadfastness, on the other. But. But now, the weight of Ishval was lifted and she was next to him and he teetered. He wobbled.

He wondered where her guns were hidden tonight. He thought of them strapped to her upper thighs (the reason for the full skirt) and trembled. He was a goner if something didn't even out the balance. The car lurched to a stop, signaling their arrival. The door opened, and they made their way into the mansion toward the revelry.

Hawkeye didn't like dressing up.

Everything in her life demanded proficiency, and there was nothing proficient in dressing up. She always chose clothing that would allow her the quickest access to her guns.

Her uniform was the best, her civilian skirts slit up the side, tolerable, and formal wear was the most cumbersome.

Tonight, she had two guns and a knife strapped to her thighs and a small fire arm resting under her arm next to her bra. The full, knee-length skirt gave her quicker access to these weapons, without offending anyone at the ball. The boat neck of her bodice allowed her to reach her small gun quickly, while hiding her back entirely.

the scar on her neck would show, but why should she care.

The choice of black kept her from being overly noticeable. Just lip gloss and perfume, and she was ready to enjoy the evening in her own understated way.

She had been excited to ride in a limo with the fellas, but was the first one to be picked up.

She began to wonder if she had on too much perfume, when they, one by one, sat opposite her, leaving her seat empty.

They cleaned up nicely.

Havoc was positively dashing in his tuxedo, radiant about being able to walk again, and see his lovely colleagues in dresses. He was dapper enough to have been a character in one of those books women were always going on about.

Breda's formal wear looked well tailored and Hawkeye wondered if he did just have the suit made. She thought he looked like he should be playing the cello in the orchestra tonight. The light-hearted thought made her smile.

Fuery still looked young, and the fidgeting and tie pulling didn't help. She half expected him to pull out a corsage and nervously attempt to pin it on her bodice.

They would be seeing Falman at the ball, he having stayed with the Briggs Command.

When they pulled in front of Roy's place, Riza stiffened.

She stroked her fingers, thinking it silly that she still felt his hand beneath hers.

Her guard was down, and, with the freedom today had brought, she was worried.

He slid silently into the seat next to her. She watched him from the corner of her eye making the usual greetings and egging the boys on.

At one point, he had Fuery so worried a rich, old lady would kiss him, that he had wiped his face with his tie.

Roy then turned his attention to her and offered that she looked nice. It wasn't what he meant, but that didn't need to be said.

She could hardly breathe, having him so close.

Once his attention was on her, it honed in and didn't leave the entire car ride.

This made Riza exceedingly nervous. She began to cross and uncross her legs, enjoying the feeling of her holsters beneath her skirt.

Energy poured from Roy. It heightened her ever present awareness of him. Each of his movement sent his coat brushing again her dress, or his cologne wafting her way.

She almost snapped, almost gave into her enemy, her own emotions, when the car pulled up to the mansion, and they were headed up the steps to enjoy the evening.


	3. The scale breaks

Roy was used to entertainment.

He had grown up in a hostess club and became a fun loving playboy at on time.

He had been in the basest of places, a make-shift bar in Ishval, with a home-made still and a phonograph, to the more grandiose of delights.

This ball was grander than them all.

Because of what Ishval's freedom meant, the ball was open to the commoner and elite alike. Few but the old matrons were offended by anyone's manners or lack there of.

The entire place had the air of a street carnival accompanied by the grandeur of the most opulent residence in Amestris.

Roy made his way around, giving greetings and introductions, always aware of Riza two steps behind him.

He set out to dance and was unpleasantly surprised to see Riza had been asked as well.

As they and their respective partners spun and twirled, Roy could only see Riza. She would sweep past him, her skirts twirling about those legs.

Her laughter reached his ears and he quit dancing, too jealous from hearing her laugh like that with another man. He spun around and saw it was Havoc she was dancing with. Roy hoped he wasn't planning on getting back at him now, all these years later, for stealing his girlfriends.

He found his way to the refreshments table, choosing a silver cup full of punch to cool his heated form. She was right behind him in moment, reaching around him for a cup of her own.

They looked at each other, joyful in the celebration, but hesitant to allow for anything more.

Riza, always the bodyguard, asked if she could leave for the powder room. Roy had balked at her asking for permission on a night like tonight, but he granted it to her anyway.

He watched her walk away, each sway of her hips pushing him.

"You know...you don't have to wait anymore." The voice beside Roy made him jump to attention.

"Fuerher sir!" he saluted.

"At ease Mustang. Did you hear me before? You don't have to wait anymore."

Not understanding Grumman's statement, he replied, "I-I do not need to use the facilities sir!"

The old man just laughed. "Not what I was commenting on, but good to know." He continued to laugh.

"Then what sir?"

"Oh! yes...At the signing today, I removed the fraternization laws pertaining to commissioned officers. There are still rules in place mind you. At least one of the party must be a general. Generals are married to the military anyway, and it would be hard to find a woman who understands that more than one in the military itse-"

"Wait! What did you say?" Roy cut Grumman off, a wild look in his eyes.

All night..all night he had been looking for someone or something to right the balance for him. Instead, he was being pushed by one of those someones, forcefully, right into Riza and forever.

He looked around himself erratically, finally spying her talking to one of the women, and took off in her direction, faster than he's ever made his way through a crowd before.

Behind him, the fuerher's laugh chased him through the crowd.

The dinner was lovely, the ball even more so. Riza enjoyed the people around her, the atmosphere of light-heartedness, the dancing.

She couldn't relax entirely however. General Mustang was everywhere, chatting to this person, greeting that one, being a perfect target.

She knew she should enjoy this party fully, but she wasn't one to let her guard down. And now, with General Mustang so joyful and social, she needed to keep the distance between them professional in nature.

It had been exceedingly difficult to maintain her composure in the car. She had wanted nothing more than to grab Roy's hand and never let go. This ball gave her leave to regain her former standing of not being in love with her General.

Soon he was dancing, having no end of women asking for their turn. They had always been rather brazen in regards to General Mustang.

Riza stood amongst the crowd, watching General Mustang wind and twirl his way about the dance floor, expertly guiding whomever he was dancing with so that they appeared equally as skilled.

A hand tapped her shoulder and then Havoc was asking her to dance. He wanted to try out his legs, he said.

She told him she thought that his way of asking was in poor taste, but yes, she would dance with him, followed by a chuckle.

She and Havoc twirled and moved with less expert refinement than the General and his partners, but with more laughter, ease and conversation.

Riza actually lost herself in the moment, laughing and enjoying her dance, until she spied General Mustang moving toward one of the refreshment tables.

"Duty call" she informed Havoc and he let her go gracefully.

She made it to the table directly after General Mustang had received his punch.

She was extremely thirsty and warm, so, without thinking, she reached around him to grab a cup of her own. This resulted in her body being pressed into his for a brief moment, but it was a moment too long.

She smiled a little at him, but could say nothing.

Trembling with the need to keep her resolve, she asked permission to use the restroom. Mustang granted it and she was gone like a flash.

When she got to the lounge, she took the time to splash a little water on her face, straighten herself, and become composed again.

When she felt like control had been restored, she made her way from the lounge only to be stopped by one of the women inquiring about her outfit.

She was listening, rather impatiently, to the woman extol fashion, when she heard her grandfather laugh unusually loudly.

Everything happened ridiculously fast after that.

Roy emerged from the crowd, almost a wild look in his eye.

He grabbed her by the arm, excusing them away from the woman with an, "Excuse me, but I need Riza", then proceeded to lead/drag her down one of corridors.

They walked/ran through the maze of the mansion until they were in a deserted wing where no one was, and probably hadn't been for awhile.

"Sir? sir!" Riza questioned him, really not ready to be alone with him and concerned with the wild look he had, like he would snap and go insane any minute.

He grabbed both her arms and turned her to him. Then he half mumbled, half moaned her name "...Riza...".


	4. Into Forever

Roy couldn't think straight. All he knew was he had to get her alone.

Find her, get her alone, tell her everything, fall in love with her, allow her to be his all, seal time between them.

His instincts and situational awareness of Riza helped him to find her quickly in the crowd. Some ridiculous woman was talking to her.. Didn't she know how important this moment was?

Of course not, what was wrong with him? He grabbed Riza, letting the lady know, in no uncertain terms, that he needed Riza. In every sense. She was his past, his present, his future.

Roy dragged her through the mansion. Down this hallway, up that stairway, always moving to find a place where the music didn't follow.

When silence greeted him, he stopped.

She looked worried, calling him sir and questioning his motives. She looked like heaven to him, golden hair, amber eyes, scars and all.

He could have her. He would have her! He just needed to explain why it was okay now.

Nothing in the science he knew so well could help him now. None of his military training prepared him for this moment. Sure he'd dreamed of it again and again, but he had always pushed it rapidly from his mind upon waking.

Turning her toward him, so he could look at her straight on, he opened his mouth to allow the years worth of words to come out, only to find them replaced with the moaning of her name.

Control snapped, he was gone, there was no balance any more. Only Riza in front of him, the wall so close behind her, her lips glossy, slightly parted, confusion and trust sparkling in her amber eyes.

He pushed her into the wall then, slamming his lips onto hers, fitting himself along her entire length. His arm came behind her, the other one supporting him on the wall. The current, the flash between them, he could no more formulate words than move away from her ever again.

The look in Roy's eyes took Riza's breath away. She had known he loved her, but this was too much. She couldn't ask him, couldn't break that last piece of wall down, so Roy did it for her.

He pushed her into the wall and his lips came down on hers. The kiss was wild, abandoned. Why now, she wondered, but still she couldn't speak. She didn't even raise her arms at first, her brain barely processing his lips fervently pressing into hers.

There was no training in her life that could prepare her for this, only her dreams in the lonely nights, but she had always filed them away in the mornings. They had been dangerous things to dwell on.

Instinct then kicked in. Time slowed down, perhaps stopped. She could feel everything. The wall behind her, the wainscoting pressing into her lower back, the heat from Roy's arm supported on the wall by her head, his other arm around her back seemingly pulling her into every inch of him, the brush of his collar against her chin, her guns pressing into her. She wished they were gone, taking up too much space between her and Roy.

Finally, her arms came up of their own free will, wrapped around him, and then attempted to pull them closer together.

His lips were fervent as he pressed and kissed his way around every inch of exposed skin Riza had. He sucked on her bottom lips, trailed kisses along her jaw, kissed the dip under her ear, traced her ear with his tongue, whispering in her ear, down her neck and back onto her mouth again. Each touch sent tremors throughout her body.

She finally responded to his kiss, parting her lips. He gladly accepted her offering and slipped his tongue into her mouth to dance with hers. It was all emotion and freedom and electricity and life.

Needing to breathe, they broke apart. She could no longer deny she was in love with him. There was no going back, her guard, all her walls, were gone. She trusted him to make this work.

They breathed each other in. Between each kiss Roy told Riza he loved her. Between each touch Riza told Roy she loved him, always had.

They stayed there in the corridor for hours, kissing, touching, attempting some sort of relief from the flood of what they now were.

Roy asked Riza to marry him, she said yes. How quickly they should get married resulted in a very brief argument and a lot more kissing.

They would be in this together in every way, in every aspect of their life. One life. They were never meant to be two people. They thanked time and her grandfather with each kiss as they worshipped each other.

When the men had waited at the limo for an hour, with Roy or Riza still no showing up, they sent Fuery to investigate. He found the Fuerher sneaking around one of the corridors. Fuery asked him if he had seen Roy and Riza lately. The Fuerher just winked at the boy and sent him on his way home, his laughter following Fuery down the hallway and out the door.


End file.
